


Valp

by SuddenlySullen



Series: Valp [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Tooth-Rotting Fluff, my soft babies being soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-05-15 11:47:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19295113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuddenlySullen/pseuds/SuddenlySullen
Summary: A year after the events of Endgame, everyone is handling things in their own way. Peter has taken to spending a lot of time at the mostly abandoned Avengers compound, by himself. That is, until some unexpected company arrives.





	1. Chapter 1

Peter was lounging on the couch at the Avengers compound. Ever since he had been brought back, May treated him differently and he felt the growing distance between them. It hurt to see her pulling so far away, like he was already dead to her and there was no coming back. So, as much as he didn't want to admit it to himself, he avoided her. He had caught up on his school work in under a year and graduated only a year behind schedule. They weren't requiring anyone who had been gone to even start their work yet, but he figured his life had been put on hold long enough. 

 

There wasn't usually anyone else around the compound - not for long anyway. They would stop by and check in once in a while, but no one seemed to want to spend their time being haunted by the ghosts of their friends and the time they spent fighting to bring them all back. Peter sometimes wondered what it would have been like if he hadn't been one of the ones that had been lost. If maybe he would be avoiding some ghosts of his own, instead of feeling like he was the one doing the haunting. 

 

From his spot on the couch, he could see out the giant bay windows as what looked like a ball of fire landed on the front lawn. A huge smile spread across his face. He recognized that ball of fire and raced out the door to meet her. 

 

"Carol!" He shouted, waving to her. He threw his arms open for a hug before realizing that she was carrying something and instead reaching out to help her. 

 

The 'something' that she was carrying was actually a man. That is, if you could even call him that in the state he was in. His black hair was matted down to his scalp, tangled with what looked like patches of dried blood and possibly chunks of flesh. His skin was so pale it might have been fluorescent if it weren't for the blue tinge to it. Where his cheeks should have been were only deep caverns and bones. The same could be said for everywhere on the man's body. If it weren't for the fact that Peter could hear the soft, slow taps of his heart beating, he would have called him a corpse rather than a man. 

 

Carol gave him a soft smile. "Thanks, kiddo. He's heavier than he looks. Let's get him inside."

 

Peter took the man from her easily, cradling his limp body in his arms. Some part of him was a bit surprised by the lack of stench, completely forgetting that they had come from  _ space _ and that there probably wasn't much to stink a person up out there. 

 

They walked inside, where Peter set the man down onto the couch with as much care as he could. Carol had been right that he was heavier than he looked, but he still looked like he might break if one of them were to breathe on him too hard. 

 

"Who is that?" Peter whispered to Carol. "What happened to him?"

 

She shrugged slightly, shaking her head. "I don't know. I found him floating and he screamed when I asked him about Thanos, so I brought him here. Where is everyone?" 

 

Peter looked down at the man in front of him, avoiding her gaze. "I think it's hard for them. Being here, you know."

 

"Think you can handle this?" She asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

 

He looked up at her in surprise. "I- yeah, of course I can. Yep. I'll take care of it, don't you worry."

 

"That's the spirit," she chuckled. "You call me if there's anything you need, okay?" 

 

He nodded up at her, trying to stop himself from grinning from ear to ear that she trusted him enough to leave the decisions about this up to him. She ruffled his hair as she turned to walk out the door, laughing under her breath. Peter watched as she flew back up into the sky. He wondered if her ship was up there waiting for her (and if maybe he could convince her to let him drive it someday). 

 

Turning back to the man on the couch, he reached forward to feel for a pulse on his neck. His skin felt like ice under Peter's fingers, so cold it was almost painful. He shivered as he pulled away and ran down the hallway, grabbing every blanket out of the hall closet and bringing them back to the living room. He layered them over the man one by one, starting with an electric blanket, taking care to tuck the edges in for maximum warmth. He could remember Ben doing the same for him when he had gotten pneumonia and it felt like he could never get warm. He turned the electric blanket on 'low' and sat down at the end of the couch by the man's head. There wasn't really a plan for what he would do once the man woke up. In that moment, Peter just wanted to make sure that he  _ did  _ wake up. 

 

Peter fidgeted with the sleeves of his hoodie, glancing down at the man's face every few seconds. It felt like an eternity before he heard him start taking slow breaths. Though he didn't seem to be awake or at all aware of what was happening around him, the man's body seemed to wince with every breath. His hand shook like a leaf as he gently placed it on the man’s forehead. His skin was still cool to the touch, but it no longer hurt Peter to touch him, so he assumed that it was in improvement.

 

"Friday," Peter called out quietly. 

 

"Yes, Peter." 

 

"Can you tell if he's hurt anywhere? Or what happened to him?" 

 

"No, Peter. My protocols are not the same as Karen's, nor do I have the necessary hardware." 

 

"Oh." He ran his free hand through his own hair. "Okay, thanks Friday." 

 

He looked down at the man’s face and noticed that as the color started to return to his skin, there were bruises forming on his throat, so dark they were almost black. He tried to stifle the horrified gasp that came out of his mouth with little success. 

 

“Who did this to you,” he whispered. 

 

Peter sighed, taking his hand off of the man’s forehead and pulling the sleeve up on his other arm to reveal one of his web shooters. He shot a web out to the bookcase, pulling one of his favorite books to him. 

 

“ _ Shadow had done three years in prison. He was big enough, and looked don’t-fuck-with-me enough that his biggest problem was killing time. So he kept himself in shape, and taught himself coin tricks, and thought a lot about how much he loved his wife.” _

 

Peter wasn’t sure why he was reading aloud. He was pretty certain that the man sharing the couch with him couldn’t actually hear what he was saying, but something about the gesture felt right. It reminded him of the way that Ben had sat with him while he had pneumonia, reading some other book. Thinking back, he knew it was probably just an excuse to keep an eye on him, but that only made the memory that much sweeter. So he kept on reading. His own voice stopped the silence from closing in on them and pushed away the nagging thought that the man might not actually survive whatever had been done to him. He had read the book at least five times, but every time he read it, he seemed to find something new that he hadn’t noticed before. It was a good book that way. 

 

“ _ In a dark red room - the color of the walls is close to that of raw liver - is a tall woman dressed cartoonishly in too-tight silk shorts, her-”  _ Peter’s voice came to a halt, a blush rising in his cheeks as he realized which part of the book he had reached. He knew that the next few pages contained a sex scene. He had read it several times before. Somehow, though, the thought of reading it out loud, even when the only other person present was unconscious, overwhelmed him with embarrassment. 

 

“We’ll just skip this bit, huh?” He flipped a few pages to the next section of the book and continued reading. 

 

The only other section he ended up skipping over without anywhere near the same amount of embarrassment as the first was another sex scene, this time involving two men. Peter gave himself credit for reading much more of this scene than he had the first, even if he did ultimately skip over the gory details. He assumed that his companion didn’t mind, based on the fact that he was still completely unconscious and had shown no signs of movement. 

 

Darkness started to crawl over the room as the sun set beneath the treeline outside the windows. The inside lights turned on, much brighter than Peter would have liked them to be, though he wasn’t quite sure why. Something about it struck him as being potentially frightening to the man sharing the couch with him if he happened to wake up. 

 

“Hey Friday,” he said softly when he came to a new chapter. “Change the lights, please? A little more ‘home’ and a little less ‘hospital’, if you know what I mean.”

 

The fluorescent lights shut off and several wall lamps turned on instead, casting a soft yellow light over the living room. Dark curtains pulled over the windows, preventing anyone outside from seeing into the building. Friday had told him before that it was an old security measure of Tony’s, so even though he didn’t understand it, he never told her not to do it.

 

“Thanks, Friday,” he sighed.

 

“You’re welcome, Peter.”

 

Peter looked back down at his book and kept right on reading until his eyes started to burn and he was yawning through more pages than not. He soldiered on, knowing that they were nearing the end of the first section of the book. 

 

“ _ Shadow realized it had only been a temporary reprieve, his time in the house of the dead; and already it was beginning to feel like something that happened to somebody else, a long time ago.” _

 

Peter took a deep breath before closing the book and setting it down on the end table. He let his hand come back down to rest on the man’s forehead, smiling softly when he realized that he no longer felt cold. He brushed the jet black hair off of his face.

 

“You know, I think I kind of relate to Shadow a little bit there. I was, um, I was one of the ones that was gone for those years and I don’t remember any of it, you know? But all these people have their lives that they had to go on living and learn to live without me. Being here now, it’s like I’m someone else. To them, anyway.”

 

His hand continued to stroke the other man’s hair, without his thinking about it. 

 

“Sometimes I think they wish we hadn’t come back at all,” he mumbled. “I know it’s terrible to say and that none of them would ever say it out loud, but it would be easier for them, you know? They did their grieving and moved on with their lives, but now it seems like everyone else who came back expects half the world to just rewind their lives for them. People lost their spouses and moved on and it’s just so unfair to everyone,” his voice trailed off. “I don’t know, I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this. You probably can’t even hear me. Maybe that’s why. Maybe I just need to say it without someone looking at me like I’ve killed their cat.”

 

Peter sighed, leaning back into the couch, but keeping his hand on top of the other man’s head. He scooted down and propped his feet up on the coffee table, letting his head rest on the back of the couch. Closing his eyes, he let his ears focus on the slow thumping of the other man’s heartbeat. The sound soothed him, reminding him that no matter what happened, he was alive and he was here with someone else who was  _ alive _ . A wave of warmth spread over him as his exhaustion took over and he finally allowed himself to drift off to sleep, steady thumping ringing in his ears, even in his dreams. 


	2. Chapter 2

Peter woke slowly, keeping his eyes shut so that he could bask in the warmth of his blankets just a little longer. It was rare these days that he didn't wake up screaming, thinking he had been gone another five years, so when he did get a full night of sleep he wanted to savor it. After a few moments though, he remembered that he had fallen asleep on the couch at the Avengers compound with a strange man that Carol had left in his care. He opened his eyes, unsure what to expect. 

 

Sometime while he slept, he had repositioned himself on the couch. His legs no longer rested on the coffee table, but instead were tucked in next to the man's sides. The man seemed to have moved slightly during the night as well. He lay curled up between Peter's legs, using one of his thighs as a pillow. All but one of the blankets had been kicked onto the floor and the one that remained mostly only covered their legs. The man's skin felt cool to the touch again. Peter could feel it where his cheek was resting on his thigh. It occurred to him that maybe that was just how he was.    
  
Without the mountain of blankets on top of him, Peter could finally see the kind of shape that the man was in. He wore leather clothing that looked like it had once fit his form, but now hung loosely over him. Holes in several places revealed cuts and gashes that seemed to be healing. His feet were bare, but Peter could tell that they weren't dirty. 

 

Peter yawned, letting out a soft squeaking sound. He tried to stretch as much as he could without jostling the sleeping man, flexing his legs as he arched his back over the arm of the couch. Looking towards the kitchen, he could see over the countertops to where the fridge was calling his name. He rubbed one hand over his face, trying to decide if it was worth moving the man off of his leg to go make breakfast. 

 

“Hey Friday, can you open the fridge?” Peter asked the air around them.

 

A wide grin spread across his face when the fridge did open. Lifting his wrist, he used his web shooter to grab a protein shake and send it flying it into his hand.

 

“Thanks, Fri.”

 

“You’re welcome, Peter.”

 

Peter looked down at his lap again to make sure that he hadn’t jostled the sleeping man too much. His dark hair covered his face, so Peter used his free hand to brush the hair behind his ear. He thought he saw the man’s face move slightly so he paused his movement, keeping his hand resting just behind his ear. When there was no more movement, Peter released the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He used his teeth to twist the cap off of his protein shake before chugging the entire bottle. 

 

“What happened to you,” Peter sighed, looking over the man again. 

 

Peter closed his eyes and let his thumb move softly over the man’s cheek where it was resting. It was something he hoped was a comforting gesture, if the man even knew what was happening around him. With a soft sight, Peter picked up his book again and began reading.

 

“ _ As they drove out of Illinois late that evening, Shadow asked Wednesday his first question. He saw the  _ **_Welcome to Wisconsin_ ** _ sign, and said, ‘So who were the bunch that grabbed me in the parking lot? Mister Wood and Mister Stone? Who were they?’” _

 

He let himself get lost in the story of the book. It was somewhat comforting to know that no matter how much the world around him had changed, the books he loved would always stay the same. It was a fact that had helped him through Ben’s death, and then becoming Spiderman, and eventually Tony’s death. It seemed like every time he started to get comfortable with where his life was, something huge came along to shake it up. So when things got strange, he always turned back to books. 

 

“‘ _ Shadow felt that he needed to say something:  _ **_I love you_ ** _ , or  _ **_please don’t go_ ** _ , or  _ **_I’m sorry_ ** _. The kind of words you use to patch a conversation that had lurched, without warning, into the dark places. Instead he said, ‘I’m not dead.’  _

_ ‘Maybe not,’ she said. ‘But are you sure you’re alive?’ _

_ ‘Look at me,’ he said. _

_ ‘That’s not an answer,’ said his dead wife. ‘You’ll know it, when you are.’” _

 

Peter set the book down, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

 

“You know, I was never really sure what that meant before. I figured it was some existential metaphor that only worked within the book. Cause there’s nothing in between alive and dead, right? But, you know, maybe there is. Maybe there wasn’t before, but there definitely is now. All that time we were gone, we were dead. At least to everyone else we were. To me, I was just… nothing. There was nothing,” he glanced down at the man and found him still asleep on his lap. He sighed before continuing his rambling, staring out the window at the empty lawns. “But now. I’m here, but I died. I can’t just pop back into life where I was before - I’m not alive like that. They can’t just go on like I’m still dead. So I must be somewhere in the middle. Maybe you are too.” 

 

When Peter looked back at the man, he saw that his eyes were open. Emerald eyes looked up at him, studying the features of his face. He almost looked scared. Peter wondered how long he had been awake and if he had heard him talking. He was unsure if it had been something about the way his face looked, but the man closed his eyes again. Peter could feel the tension in his body where they still touched each other. 

 

“It’s okay,” Peter finally spoke, when he managed to stop his racing thoughts. “You’re safe here.”


	3. Chapter 3

The man opened his eyes again, looking up at Peter. He opened his mouth, like he wanted to reply, but only a raspy breath came out. He jerked slightly, bringing a bony hand up to his neck and feeling the bruises there.

 

“It’s okay. You probably shouldn’t talk. It looks… Well, it looks like it hurts. I don’t know what happened to you. Or when, even,” Peter continued. “But you’re safe here and it’s all over now. Thanos-” 

 

The man’s eyes went wide and Peter could feel him trying to sit up. His nails dug into Peter’s forearm for help. Supporting most of the man’s considerable weight against his side, Peter helped him get into an upright position. It was the first time that Peter had really paid attention to his size since carrying him into the compound and while he was still much heavier than he looked, Peter could feel the way that his skin hugged his bones.

 

“He’s dead,” Peter reassured him. “The Avengers, they killed him. They brought everyone back. I guess I helped a little. I’m Peter Parker. I guess it’s weird to just be telling you my name now, huh?”

 

Peter looked down, not expecting much for an answer, but received a slight smirk. The man relaxed slightly, letting Peter support more of his weight. 

 

“You’re not from Earth, are you?” 

 

The man shook his head.

 

“Do you know about the Avengers?”

 

A smirk crossed the man’s face and he rolled his eyes slightly, nodding. His eyebrows pinched together and he pointed at Peter, an inquisitive look on his face.

 

“Am I an Avenger? Not really,” he shook his head. “We work together, but I was just trying to help Mr. Stark,” he felt his throat tighten as he tried to hold back tears. He looked down at his lap. “I guess I did help. And then he helped all of us.” He cleared his throat. “But no, no I’m not an Avenger. I’m just a friendly neighborhood Spiderman.”

 

The man patted his arm gently. Peter looked back up at him, offering a forced smile. 

 

“Does it hurt?” Peter looked at the bruises around the man’s throat. 

 

The man closed his eyes for a moment and nodded. Peter could see the way his Adam’s apple bobbed, making him wince.

 

“Hey, Friday,” Peter called out to the air. The man looked around in confusion. “Don’t worry,” Peter reassured him. “She’s not a person. She’s - well, I guess right now she’s the house.”

 

“Yes, Peter?” Friday’s voice answered.

 

“Can you make tea for…. “ He grimaced slightly. “I don’t even know your name.”

 

The man opened his mouth again, like he was trying to speak, but nothing came out. His shoulders sagged against Peter and he offered a sad look. 

 

“Friday, can you just make some tea, please?”

 

“Of course, Peter,” she replied. Peter could hear things moving around in the kitchen.

 

The man tapped Peter’s arm gently. Peter looked at him, then noticed he was pointing across the room. When Peter looked where he was pointing, the man appeared in front of him.  Confused, he looked down to where the man was still leaning against his side on the couch. When he looked back, he realized that the version of the man standing in front of him looked much healthier and slightly more familiar. He was slightly translucent in a way that reminded Peter of the hologram calls when Carol would start cutting out.

 

“I am Loki,” the version of the man standing in front of them said, his voice echoing around the room. “Son of Odin.” His mouth opened like he planned to speak more, but the image disappeared before he could. 

 

“Loki,” Peter repeated. “You’re Thor’s brother. The one that… That killed a lot of people.”

 

The man - Loki sighed against him, looking away. 

 

“It’s okay,” Peter continued. “Thor said you were different. That that wasn’t you. That Thanos made you. But he told us you died a hero,” Peter smiled softly. “Guess he got that bit wrong.”

 

Loki nodded. Peter could see the muscles in his jaw tensing like he wanted to speak again. Before he could start talking again, the tea that he had asked Friday to make popped up from the coffee table. Loki looked up at him, one eyebrow cocked. 

 

“It’s just tea,” Peter reassured him. “It might help your throat a bit. I promise I’m not going to hurt you. If I wanted to do that I would have done it when you were unconscious on the couch, not when you were awake doing magic.”

 

That earned him a silent laugh from Loki, who reached forward and grasped the mug with a shaking hand. The steaming liquid sloshed around in the mug, making Peter worry that he was going to spill it and burn himself.

 

“Here,” Peter reached forward, putting his hand on the cup to steady it. “Let me.”

 

Loki sighed, letting his hand fall away from the mug. His shoulders drooped slightly. Peter held the cup up to his mouth as he took a few small sips, wincing slightly when the liquid went down his throat.

 

“Sorry,” Peter mumbled, setting the cup down on the table again. “My aunt used to make me tea whenever I had a sore throat. Guess yours is a little more than sore. Hey you must be starving, right? I mean you look,” his voice trailed off.

 

He heard the slight exhale of Loki chuckling and looked down to see him nodding slightly.

 

“Hey, Friday,” Peter called out. “Can you pop open the freezer for me?”

 

The freezer opened and Peter used his web shooter to grab a pint of Ben & Jerry’s from it. Loki winced when it flew over his head and into Peter’s hand. 

 

“Finally got my own flavor. ‘Web-Swinging Strawberry’ is what they decided to call it. I think they could have come up with a better name, but it’s actually pretty good. Here,” Peter pulled the top off and detached the spoon from the side. 

 

Loki watched him as he scooped some of the ice cream onto the spoon and offered it to him. After a brief hesitation, he took a bite and let out a soft sigh. Peter smiled, relaxing slightly. He was just thankful that he hadn’t hurt Loki again.

 

“Pretty good, right?”

 

Loki nodded as he swallowed the ice cream. Peter offered him another bite which he took without any hesitation. 

 

“Okay, so cold - good. Hot - bad.” Peter laughed under his breath. He continued to feed Loki small bites as he talked. “You know the coolest thing about this stuff is that it has like a ton of protein in it. I guess they heard me talk in an interview about how much I eat all the time and they decided to work that in. So I guess maybe it’ll help you feel a little better since it’s not all sugar.”

 

Once the first few bites were down, Loki was able to eat more normal sized bites. He even took the spoon from Peter and fed himself, allowing Peter to hold onto the container. As he ate more, Loki seemed to perk up quite a bit. He stayed pressed against Peter’s side, but was able to sit all the way up. When the pint was gone, Peter tossed it over his shoulder and heard Friday sigh as she moved the trash can to catch it.

 

“Oh! Oh my gosh,” Peter exclaimed. “We have to tell Thor that you’re here.”

 

As Peter moved slightly, he felt Loki’s hand on his arm pulling him back down to the couch. When he looked at him, Loki was shaking his head.

 

“You don’t want him to know? But why? He seems like he’s missed you a lot and I’m sure he would be really happy to see you.”

 

Loki looked down at himself, then pointed to the bruises on his throat before nodding towards the room. Peter looked away and saw the image of the healthier Loki standing in the room.

 

“That is not who I am,” the image spoke. “My brother has done his mourning. I do not wish to burden him with my ghost.”

 

Peter sighed as the image disappeared again. He could see the slight layer of sweat that had formed on Loki’s forehead. 

 

“Okay,” he replied. “I get it. I was one of the ones that was gone too, you know? And it’s - it’s been really hard for everyone who was here the whole time. I feel like a ghost sometimes too.”

 

Loki nodded slowly, resting his head on Peter’s shoulder. Without thinking, Peter turned and kissed his forehead. 

 

"Thank you," Loki's voice echoed, more in Peter's head than in his ears.


	4. Chapter 4

"We should get you cleaned up a little," Peter said, looking down at Loki. "And get some more comfortable clothes on you."

 

Loki looked down at himself before nodding, his head still resting on Peter's shoulder. 

 

"Think you can help a little?" Loki nodded again and Peter wrapped one of his arms around his back, holding tightly onto his waist. Loki put an arm around Peter's shoulders, preparing to stumble. "Okay, on three. One, Two, Three." 

 

Peter hauled Loki to his feet, supporting most of his weight for him. His free hand came forward, allowing Loki to brace against his arm. 

 

"It's okay, I've got you," Peter reassured him. "I won't let you fall." 

 

Loki's weight sagged further into him and Peter supported it easily. Peter led him slowly down the hall through his own bedroom and into his personal bathroom, silently thanking Friday for keeping it clean. He guided Loki to sit down on the lid of the toilet, standing close enough that he could still lean against Peter's abdomen to support his weight. 

 

"There you go," Peter could hear the smile in his voice. "You made it." 

 

Loki exhaled a slight scoff, looking up at him with one eyebrow cocked. 

 

"It's okay to need help sometimes," Peter said softly. 

 

"I am quite familiar with  _ needing _ help. Not so familiar with  _ receiving  _ it," Loki's voice in his head sounded sad. 

 

Peter ran a hand over Loki's hair, letting it rest between his shoulder blades. His skin still felt cool to the touch. "Well, guess you're gonna have to get used to it, huh?" 

 

He could tell that Loki smiled for a brief moment, even if he couldn't see it. Somehow, he just knew. 

 

"Friday, start the bath please," Peter asked the air, pausing for a moment while the bathtub faucet turned on behind him. "So, we gotta get all this off of you somehow," Peter chewed his lip in thought. 

 

Loki shook his head and Peter watched as he lifted one of his bony hands up. Green energy seemed to flow around it as it moved over his body, slicing through the leather of his clothing and allowing it to hang loosely from his body in a way that would allow it to be easily pulled off. Peter could see the sweat on his forehead and hear his ragged breathing as the green energy disappeared from his hand. 

 

"Whoa," Peter gasped. "I thought you could only do tricks."

 

Loki chuckled silently, shaking his head where it was still resting on Peter's stomach. 

 

Peter hummed softly, looking back at the tub when he heard the water turn off. "Okay, I think." He cleared his throat, trying to push away the awkwardness he felt. "I think I might have to get in with you. I can keep my underwear on if you want." He could hear his voice speed up as he started rambling. "I just don't want you to drown or anything and you're still pretty weak even though you're, like,  _ way _ better than when you first got here-"

 

"Peter." Loki's voice in his head interrupted him. "It's alright. I appreciate your help. More than I can properly explain, given our current circumstances." He gestured to his bruised throat. 

 

Peter felt his face soften. Moving  his hand only momentarily from between Loki's shoulder blades, he tugged his tee shirt over his head and tossed it in the hamper. Once he unbuckled his belt, his pants were loose enough that he could nudge them off of his hips with his boxers and kick them across the floor to sit next to the hamper. He unstrapped his web shooter from his wrist with his teeth and set it down on the back of the toilet.

 

He brought his hands to the shreds of Loki's tunic, pausing to ask his permission to remove it. When he felt the slight nod against his bare stomach, he pushed the tattered fabric off of his small frame. Peter felt his chest tighten at the sight of Loki's bare chest. There was almost no piece of skin that wasn't marked with deep scars, some that looked more recent than others. 

 

"Oh, my god, what happened to you?" Peter blurted out under his breath before he could catch himself. 

 

Loki sighed against him. "My life happened, cosmic joke that it is." Peter could hear the pain behind the words that echoed in his head. 

 

"I'm so sorry," Peter whispered.

 

Loki looked up at him for a few moments before his voice spoke in Peter's head once more. "And why should you be sorry? None of these scars have been by your hands." 

 

Peter brought his hand up to Loki's cheek, running his thumb back and forth. "Someone should be sorry," he sighed. "It might as well be me. And if I ever find them, I'll do my best to make them sorry too," he added the last sentence with a slight growl. 

 

Loki flashed a quick smile before his voice returned to Peter's thoughts. "You might be the only Midgardian I will ever like." 

 

Peter shook his head slightly, bracing his feet on the floor and positioning his arms under Loki's before helping him to stand up. Before guiding him to the tub, Peter nudged the scraps of his pants onto the floor. He tried not to wince as he realized that the scars on Loki's body didn't stop at his waist. 

 

"Okay, come on, I got you," Peter coached him through shuffling to the edge of the tub, where they paused. "This part might be easier if you let me do it. Is that okay?"

 

Loki nodded his permission and in one smooth motion, Peter swept his feet off the floor so that he was holding him cradled in his arms, the same way that he had carried him into the compound. He could feel Loki’s muscles tense as his arms wrapped around his neck.

 

“It’s alright,” Peter murmured. “I’ve got you.”

 

Loki exhaled against Peter’s neck. He stepped easily into the tub before allowing Loki's feet to slide down from his arms. Loki allowed Peter to maneuver his body so that his back was pressed to Peter's chest. Peter wrapped both arms around Loki's waist before slowly sitting down, his own legs framing Loki's. 

 

"There we go," Peter sighed. "We did it."

 

"You did it," he heard the smirk in Loki's voice in his head. 

 

Peter smiled, relaxing into the warm water. He let his arms drape over Loki’s shoulders onto his chest. He could feel Loki starting to relax against him as well. Loki's head fell back to rest against Peter's shoulder. 

 

"Hey, I wanted to ask. How do you do that? Talking to me?" 

 

"Magic." Loki answered in his mind, his tone teasing. 

 

"Can you read my mind?" 

 

"Not exactly," Loki answered.

 

Peter chuckled slightly. "Care to elaborate a little for me?"

 

"I cannot hear thoughts. I can see memories," came Loki's reply. 

 

Peter hummed softly. "Does that mean you know what happened while you were unconscious?"

 

Loki shook his head. "I haven't looked. Anything you don't remember, I wouldn't see." 

 

"Do you want to look?" Peter found himself curious as to why the god hadn't looked already. 

 

"If you will allow me, perhaps once we are no longer in danger of drowning. Speaking to you like this takes little energy, especially since you have been very welcoming to it. Picking through memories is harder and I'm still rather  _ weak." _ Peter could hear the disgust in Loki's voice when he called himself weak. 

 

"Hey," Peter nudged Loki’s knee with his own. "You survived. Look at you. Look at  _ everything  _ you've survived. That's not weakness."  

 

They sat in silence for what felt like an eternity to Peter before Loki's voice rang in his thoughts once more. "Thank you, Peter." 


	5. Chapter 5

Peter sighed softly, looking down at Loki’s bruised and scarred body. He pulled a clean washcloth from the edge of the tub, dipping it into the warm water. Loki’s eyes followed his movements closely and it made Peter’s heart ache to think about who might have hurt him so badly. He used the washcloth to wet Loki’s hair where it was laying against his shoulder. Loki sat up slightly, giving him easier access to the back of his head. 

 

“Thanks,” Peter said under his breath, taking in the massive scars on his back.

 

“Is it a human custom to thank someone while you are caring for them?” Loki’s voice echoed in Peter’s head while his body let out a breathy laugh.

 

“No,” Peter laughed. “Just me, I guess.”

 

Loki tipped his head back, allowing Peter to keep rinsing his hair with the washcloth. Peter could see the grime flowing out of it and was silently glad that it appeared to be something other than blood that was matting his hair down. He pumped some of his own shampoo into one hand and rubbed it into a foam.

 

“Close your eyes for me, okay?” Peter warned Loki. He could feel the man tense slightly even as he did what Peter asked. “I just don’t want to get this in your eyes. It hurts a little in the eyes.”

 

He brought both hands to the back of Loki’s head, massaging his scalp with his fingernails. He was surprised by how soft Loki’s hair was in the spaces where it wasn’t matted down with mysterious goo. The sound of Loki’s heartbeat pounding in his ears slowed as he worked the shampoo through his hair. Peter smiled, wondering if Loki knew that he could hear how much he was relaxing. He decided not to ask, for fear that Loki might think he was making fun of him. A small part of him also wanted to keep quiet so that he could keep listening to Loki’s heart. 

 

Peter sighed when he realized that almost every bit of Loki’s head was covered in suds. He ran his fingers through the locks, making sure that the mats had all loosened with the shampoo. When he was satisfied that they were, he picked up the washcloth again, using it to rinse the suds out of the waves of jet black hair.

 

“You can open your eyes again,” Peter mumbled.

 

Loki turned his head slightly to look at Peter, his expression soft. Peter noticed a spot of soap bubbles on his cheek and reached forward to wipe it off. Loki winced away from his hand and Peter let it fall away.

 

“Sorry,” Peter let his hands rest, palms up, on top of the bath water. 

 

Loki shook his head, picking Peter’s hand back up and bringing it to his cheek. Peter smiled slightly, wiping the soap off with his thumb. He let his hand drop to Loki’s shoulder noticing the way that he seemed to be struggling to keep himself upright and guiding him to lean back against his chest again. He could feel the way that Loki’s muscles went limp once they weren’t supporting him anymore. His arms draped over Loki’s shoulders and across his chest once again to rest on his own elbows.

 

“You should tell me if you need help.” Peter tried to keep his tone scolding, in his best Aunt May impression, but the words still came out soft. 

 

"Apologies," Loki replied in his head. "It's a bit of an adjustment."

 

Peter pressed a quick kiss to his temple and replied sarcastically, "Don't let it happen again." 

 

"Or what?" Loki smirked.  

 

"No more ice cream?" Peter replied weakly. 

 

Loki didn't reply. Instead, he turned to press his forehead into the side of Peter's neck. It was a strange sensation to have someone be touching him and to feel cold, but Peter enjoyed the touches he was able to share with Loki. The kinds of casual touch that he used to get from Ned or Michelle or Tony or Natasha or May. People who were now either ghosts or being haunted by them. It was a feeling that he hadn't realized he was missing, but now knew that he was desperate for. Peter's thoughts were interrupted by the realization that the water was getting cool.

 

He let out a soft sigh. "We should get out of the water." 

 

Loki nodded against his neck, but didn't move. 

 

"Let me carry you?" 

 

There was a long pause with no response from Loki before he finally nodded again. Peter smiled, letting his hands fall away from Loki's chest to curl under his armpits. 

 

"This part might be a little uncomfortable, but I promise I'd never hurt you or let you fall," Peter tried to reassure him. 

 

Without waiting for another response, Peter stood up in one quick motion. He lifted Loki easily, moving to carry him bridal style again once they were in a standing position. Loki's arms wrapped around his neck, resting his head on Peter's shoulder. 

 

"See?" Peter told him, smiling. "I've got you." 

 

Peter carried Loki through the door into his bedroom, laying Loki down on the bed as gently as he had laid him on the couch when Carol had brought him. He couldn't help but rake his eyes over Loki's frail body. On the king sized bed, Loki looked even smaller than he had before. Ducking back into the bathroom, Peter grabbed a fluffy towel, hurriedly tying it around his waist. His heart raced, worried about Loki even though he could see him lying on his side watching him through the open bathroom door.  He grabbed a second towel and brought it back to the bed.

 

"C'mere, let's get you dry."

 

Sitting down on the edge of his bed, Peter teasingly draped the towel over Loki like it was a very small blanket. For a moment, Loki looked confused, but he seemed to light up at the sight of Peter's smirk. With as much care as he had washed him, Peter dried him with the towel. Loki's eyes stayed on him as he moved, studying the way his hands worked. Once Peter was satisfied that he was dry, he tossed the towel into the bathroom, missing the hamper completely. He stood and walked to his closet, pulling out two pairs of Avengers branded sweatpants and plain tee shirts that matched. On the way back to the bed, he paused at his dresser to grab two pairs of boxers, silently thanking Friday or whoever had decided that they should all have standard clothes here just in case. He caught the raise of one of Loki's eyebrows at the sight of the Avengers logo on the pants and chuckled softly. 

 

"They're not my favorite people right now either, but it's better than not having clothes," Peter answered the question that hadn't been asked. 

 

"Is it though?" Loki replied in his head. 

 

Peter felt himself blush. "You're pretty sassy for somebody that was just rescued from space, you know."

 

Loki shrugged. "Apologies." 

 

"No," Peter laughed, lifting each of Loki's feet and sliding the boxers onto him as he spoke. "I like it. It reminds me that we’re not dead. There's not enough sass around here since," he paused, trying to think of how to describe everything that happened. "Well, there's not enough sass around here."

 

"In that case, you are very welcome, Peter." Loki lifted his hips enough for Peter to pull his boxers on. 

 

Peter assisted Loki with the rest of his clothing before tugging his own on. Throughout the process, Loki's eyes never left him. Peter wasn't sure if he was being admired or studied. He wasn't sure if he cared. He was grateful for any company and physical touch. 

 

Once his own clothes were all the way on, Peter sat down on the edge of the bed and let his eyes meet Loki's. "How're you feeling?" He put a hand on Loki's shoulder. 

 

Loki sighed before shaking his head.

 

"How can I help?" Peter absentmindedly let his hand pet down Loki's arm. 

 

Loki looked up with a smirk. "Ice cream?" 

 

"Alright," Peter laughed, moving to stand up. 

 

Loki stopped him with a hand on his arm. His mouth opened like he meant to speak, but still nothing came out. He glared at his own hand on Peter's arm. 

 

"You wanna come chill on the couch again?" 

 

His face relaxed as he nodded up at Peter. 

 

"Yeah, okay. I'm gonna pick you up again, okay?"

 

Loki rolled his eyes, but brought his arms up around Peter's neck. Peter smiled to himself. He lifted Loki easily and carried him back out to the living room, pausing in the kitchen to grab another pint of ice cream from the freezer with the hand that was tucked under Loki's knees. He set Loki down gently on the couch before handing it to him. Loki managed to keep himself upright, sitting cross-legged with his back against the arm of the couch as he started to dig into the snack. 

 

"I'm going to make real food," Peter chuckled. "You should eat some when it's done. I'm no Gordon Ramsay, but it'll be edible, I promise."

 

Loki nodded, spoon dangling out of his mouth. It occurred to Peter that there was a literal god sitting in front of him wearing his tee shirt and sweatpants eating ice cream. He shook his head, smiling to himself as he walked back to the kitchen. He could feel Loki's eyes on him as he moved, but instead of making the hair on his arms stand up, it felt somewhat comforting. Like someone had his back.


	6. Chapter 6

Peter finished washing their dishes and headed back to the living room, plopping himself on the couch next to Loki. Eating seemed to have given him a lot of his spark back and it made Peter’s chest flutter to see him smiling. Peter wrapped an arm around Loki's shoulders. 

 

"So how was it, huh?"

 

Loki's chuckling echoed in his head. "Completely edible."

 

Peter tossed his head back laughing. When he caught his breath, he nudged Loki in the ribs. "At least I gave you realistic expectations."

 

"That you did." Loki agreed, his voice rumbling deep in Peter's brain. He surprised Peter by pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. 

 

All of Peter's thoughts turned to static when he felt Loki's cool lips on his skin, as a wide smile spread across his face and he felt the blush rise in his face all the way to the tips of his ears. 

 

"Thank you again, Peter." 

 

Peter shook his head. "You've gotta stop thanking me. Thank  _ you _ . It's been months since anyone has been able to spend more than an hour around me. You've been putting up with me for two days now."

 

"Well, I was unconscious for one of them, so it hardly counts," Loki teased. 

 

Peter's face softened. "Do you want to know what happened?"

 

Loki paused before nodding slowly. He guided Peter to lean back against his chest almost the same way they had been sitting in the bathtub. His legs framed Peter's on the couch. Peter relaxed into his bony chest and closed his eyes. 

 

"Usually you wouldn't even know I was here, but in this state, I could use your help. Try not to think," Loki coached him from inside his own head. 

 

Slender fingers brushed through Peter's hair, making him hum contentedly. It was easy for Peter to focus on the feeling of Loki's fingers in his hair and not think about anything else. The hair on his arms and the back of his neck stood on end as he felt Loki's presence in his brain. As Peter relaxed, he felt like he was hovering just between being awake and asleep. Feelings of comfort and warmth spread through his chest. He could tell when Loki had stopped looking through his mind, but was so relaxed and comfortable that he didn't move. Loki continued to pet through his hair. 

 

"You read to me," Loki's voice was quiet in his head. 

 

Peter nodded against his chest. 

 

"Why?"

 

"When I was little," Peter mumbled, keeping his eyes closed and turning his face to the side, "I got sick - really sick. My uncle, he would read to me. I liked listening to the stories even when I couldn't pick my head up. When Carol brought you here I didn't know what to do. But you were sick and you needed help, so I just did what helped me when I was sick." 

 

"Books have always been my escape." Loki continued to pet his hair. 

 

Peter hummed softly, nuzzling into Loki's chest. "We're not so different, I guess."

 

"How does it end?" 

 

A smile spread across Peter's face. "If you want, we can finish it."

 

"I would like that very much." 

 

Peter opened his eyes and sat up to lean over Loki's shoulder so he could pick the book up off the end table. He settled back against Loki's chest so that the book was visible and opened it to where they had left off. 

 

" _ They changed cars at five in the morning, in Minneapolis, in the airport's long-term parking lot. They drove to the top floor, where the parking building was open to the sky." _

 

Loki's hands moved idly through his hair, distracting him from the words on the page. He continued reading aloud, relaxing into Loki's chest. He heard Loki's soft chuckling echo in his head when he reached a section where the character named for him appeared. 

 

"You know," he looked up from the book. "I didn't know who you were when you got here. But it's kind of funny now, huh? Reading you a book that's basically fanfiction about you."

 

Loki nudged him playfully. 

 

"I still think you're more like Shadow though. You'll see in a minute." 

 

He continued reading. A few pages later he found himself choked up in a way he had never been by this book. Tears pricked at his eyes as he read about the main character being roped to a tree. He paused, swallowing thickly, when a tear finally fell down his cheek. He knew what was about to happen and that it would all turn out alright in the end, but somehow that didn’t stop his chest from tightening when he thought about everything that he, Loki, and those close to them had been through. It was one thing to read about it as something mystical that could never happen to anyone in real life. It was another thing entirely to be reading about something that you, and someone you loved, had very nearly (or almost exactly, in Loki’s case) experienced firsthand. 

 

" _ They took the ladders away,"  _ Loki's voice continued in his head where he had left off. " _ There was a moment of panic as he dropped a few inches, as all his weight was taken by the ropes. He made no sound. _

_ He was entirely naked by that point. _

_ The women placed the body, wrapped in its motel-sheet shroud, at the foot of the tree, and they left him there.  _

_ They left him there alone." _

 

Loki's voice stopped. His hands left Peter's hair to wipe the tears off his face. Peter set the book down on his lap and turned, wrapping his arms around Loki's waist. 

 

"You're definitely more of a Shadow," he sniffled. "I really thought you were dead when Carol brought you here. Thor did too, when he talked about you." 

 

Bony arms wrapped around his shoulders and he felt gentle lips rest on his forehead. "Me too," Loki's voice was barely a whisper in his head. 

 

Loki picked the book up from Peter’s lap, holding it in one hand, and continued where he had left off. Peter closed his eyes, resting his cheek against Loki’s chest and listening to the words echoing in his head.  

 

“ _ It’s easy, there’s a trick to it, you do it or you die.” _

 

Peter felt Loki’s chest move in a silent laugh as he read the phrase. 

 

“You know, I like that.” He added. “It’s good advice.”

 

He continued reading, running his free hand down Peter’s back. Peter let himself get completely lost in the words, imagining the scenes playing out in his head. Someone had told him that while he was gone, they had turned the book into a television series, but he hadn’t wanted to watch it, too worried that it would be different from the way he pictured things. Now, though, the way he pictured them was changing. He saw more of himself and of Loki in Shadow and it made the story resonate deep in his chest. He knew when the end of the book was coming, but somehow didn’t expect it when he heard Loki’s voice say it.

 

“ _ The storms had cleared. The air felt fresh and clean and new once more. _

_ Tomorrow, he had no doubt, would be one hell of a beautiful day.” _

 

Peter smiled and let himself sit up, looking at Loki’s face to see what he thought.

 

“Blasphemy aside,” Loki’s voice was a soft purr in his head. “I do very much like this book.”

 

“It’s been my favorite for a long time. It’s different now, though. I think I understand better. You know, since I’ve sort of died and all.”

 

“Would you believe me if I told you it gets easier each time you do it?” Loki’s tone was light. His hand ran soothingly through Peter’s hair. 

 

“I don’t think I would,” Peter smiled. “But thank you.” He paused, looking at the windows and realizing the time. “It’s getting late, we should eat something for dinner.”

 

“Is ice cream dinner?”

 

Peter looked up to scold Loki, but saw the smirk on his face. “Ice cream can be dessert.”

 

“You Midgardians and your rules.” Loki shook his head, but was still smirking.

 

“Think of it as a reward for tolerating my cooking.” Peter laughed. 

 

Loki ruffled his hair. It made Peter feel something warm and fuzzy in his chest. He pulled himself up off the couch and into the kitchen, chewing his lip as he tried to decide what to cook. In the end, he landed on his old friend Kraft Mac and Cheese. Pulling four boxes out of the cabinet, he set the water on to boil. He could feel Loki’s eyes on him again, but wasn’t expecting the slender  hand that landed on his waist. 


	7. Chapter 7

Peter looked up in shock at Loki standing next to him. He knew that Loki was taller than him, but some part of him was still surprised that he had to turn his chin up to look at him. Standing up slightly on his toes, he pressed the softest kiss to the bruises that still darkened the side of Loki’s neck. He felt more than heard the sharp intake of breath that Loki took when he touched them. 

 

“Look at you, puppy, walking around all by yourself. It looks better already.” Peter mumbled. “Pretty soon you won’t need me at all.” He didn’t realize until the words were out of his mouth that he had used a pet name from the book. His cheeks burned with the blush that rose to them.

 

“Then I’ll just have to admit that I enjoy your company and beg you to keep me around,” Loki’s tone in his head was teasing. 

 

“I didn’t think gods begged.” Peter turned to stir the noodles.

 

Loki shrugged casually. “It’ll be our secret.”

 

“Your secrets are always safe with me,” Peter reassured him. “But I won’t make you beg. You’re welcome as long as you can tolerate me.”

 

“You are very tolerable,” Loki quipped, resting his chin on Peter’s shoulder. “Your cooking on the other hand…”

 

Peter nudged him gently with his elbow. “Guess you’ll have to teach me to cook, hm?”

 

He pulled the pot off the stove and finished preparing the noodles, spooning them into bowls and handing Loki his before getting his own. They sat together on barstools at the counter. Peter started scarfing his down immediately, but noticed that Loki was moving them around without taking at bites. 

 

“Are you certain this is food?” Loki’s voice teased.

 

Peter laughed, swallowing the large bite in his mouth. “It’s good, I promise. I grew up on this stuff.”

 

“It’s… orange.”

 

“Just try it,” Peter mumbled around a mouthful.

 

Loki gave him a sideways glance, but took a small bite. Peter could see the surprise on his face when he swallowed it. 

 

“I yield. It is completely edible.” He gave Peter a sideways glance before digging in.

 

Peter finished his dinner in record time, washing his own bowl and the pots while Loki finished eating. When Loki’s bowl was empty, he pulled a pint of ice cream out of the freezer and traded with him for his bowl. His heart fluttered when Loki flashed him a wide smile. It made him thankful that, to his knowledge, Loki couldn’t hear his heartbeat. Once the dishes were in the strainer, he sat back down next to Loki, watching him devour the ice cream. 

 

“Wanna finish the epilogue of the book?”

 

Loki nodded around a mouthful of ice cream and moved back to his spot on the couch with his dessert. Peter wasn’t sure when he started thinking of it as Loki’s spot, but it made him smile. Kicking his feet up to rest in Loki’s lap, he picked the book up from where they had left it and started reading. 

 

“ _ The two of them were driving the VW bus down to Florida on I-75.” _

 

Peter’s eyes drifted between the page and Loki’s mouth as he continued reading the epilogue. The words were a familiar comfort now that the most emotional part of the book had passed. Loki seemed to have finished his ice cream and set the container down, letting one of his cold hands rest on Peter’s knee. Goosebumps spread across his skin at the icy touch. He shifted the book so that it balanced in one of his hands and let the other one rest on top of Loki’s hand. He read through to the end of the postscript as the sun started to set outside. 

 

When he closed the book, he looked up at Loki. He had his free hand in the air, twirling a coin over it without touching it. Peter cocked his head to one side, watching the coin spin in the air. He could see Loki focusing behind it. 

 

“I’ve always liked coin tricks.” He shrugged as his voice spoke in Peter’s head. 

 

“I think it’s cheating if you use  _ real _ magic, puppy,” Peter teased softly. 

 

Loki smirked. “You called me puppy.” He spoke with his mouth instead of in Peter’s thoughts. The corners of his eyes twitched, in what Peter assumed was his way of trying to mask how much it really hurt him. His voice was hardly a raspy whisper, but Peter smiled nonetheless because it was  _ his _ . 

 

“I did.” Peter swallowed. “Sorry.”

 

When Loki spoke again, it was within Peter’s thoughts. “I like it.” He dropped his hand and let the coin disappear into thin air.

 

“We should sleep, hm?” Peter tried to change the subject.

 

Loki nodded. “Come on then.” 

 

He linked his fingers through Peter’s, nudging his feet off of his lap and onto the floor. With a surprising amount of grace, he stood and started to walk towards the hall. Peter followed, letting Loki lead him to his own bed. When he looked closely, Peter could see the way that Loki still struggled to walk. He chose not to mention it, hoping that if he needed help he would ask for it. The sound of his own heart hammering in his chest distracted him from almost everything else, except the feeling of Loki’s cold hand holding onto his. When they made it to his bedroom, he pulled the sheets back on his bed, letting Loki climb in before settling in himself and pulling the sheets over them. He stayed firmly on his own side of the bed, leaving nearly a foot of space between them in an attempt to be some sort of gentleman. After all, no one had ever taught him what the appropriate boundaries were after you had spent a night cuddling someone when they were unconscious and taken a platonic bath together. Over the sound of their slightly-out-of-sync heartbeats, he heard Loki sigh dramatically. The weight on the other side of the bed shifted and Peter felt a cool arm wrap around his waist and the other man’s body curling around him.

 

“Come here,” Loki spoke, his voice coming from his mouth in a raspy whisper as he hugged Peter tightly to him. Without the help of his extra-sensitive senses, Peter wasn’t sure if he even would have been able to hear it. 

 

It surprised Peter how nice it was that Loki’s body was so much cooler than his. The feeling reminded him of lying down on the cool side of the pillow, except it never got warm. He couldn’t help but snuggle back against him.

 

“Whatever you say, puppy.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still not okay after Endgame and I really wanted Peter and Loki to meet on-screen. I've been on a kick of writing soft comfort fics lately, so this is the product of all those things.
> 
> Find me on Twitter for thirstposting and updates - @SuddenlySullen


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